No more good faith for good people.

I have many faults, but I do my best to live by the Golden Rule, which means that I extend good faith by default. I believed that if I showed up with clarity, honesty, and a spirit of collaboration, people would meet me there. I thought integrity invited integrity.

There are too many so-called "good people" who don't operate in good faith at all. They say the right things. Smile at the right moments. Perform trust. Perform care. Perform alignment. And then, when things get uncomfortable—when they're asked to take real responsibility or make a real commitment—they disappear. They reframe the narrative. They deflect responsibility. They protect their image instead of the relationship.

They retreat from collaboration, not because it's broken, but because it requires more than they're willing to give. This isn't necessarily malicious behavior—but it is incredibly, emotionally immature. It’s destructive to any relationship where clarity, commitment, and communication matter. And then they act hurt that you called it out.

I've been burned by that more times than I care to admit, but after this time? I'm done. Finished. That version of me is dead and gone.

Being someone people feel comfortable around isn't the same as being respected. Comfort is easy. Commitment takes courage.

I don't want admiration—I want integrity. I don't need praise—I need partnership. I'm not here for politeness—I'm here for presence.

I don't want my work called "promising" to your board and "generic" to my face. I deserve consistent respect.

I don't need ambitious goals you never intended to pursue—I need honest capacity. I'm not here for "let's go!" followed by systematic retreat—I’m here for sustained effort.

I don't want to be consulted then excluded from decisions—I want genuine partnership. I don't need my expertise extracted while responsibility gets deflected—I need reciprocal investment.

So that was the line and I’ve crossed it. I’m not doing the emotional labor of keeping fragile dynamics intact. I'm not retrofitting narratives to make people feel okay about letting me down. I'm not managing someone else's anxiety about accountability. I'm not absorbing someone's emotional reactions when they're confronted with their own behavior. I'm not doing the detective work to figure out what someone "really means" when their words don't match their actions. And I’m not cushioning hard conversations to protect someone's self-image.

I'm finished operating in good faith with people who don't meet me with the same. I'm done trusting words when actions don't back them up. I'm done with collaborators who vanish when clarity is needed most.

From now on, I'm protecting my time, my work, and my integrity. If we're going to build something together, we'll do it out in the open—with boundaries, with honesty, and with real shared risk. Not vague affirmations and behind-the-scenes withdrawals.

And if you self-label as good person, that's now a signal I won’t ignore. I probably should have seen that a long time ago, but I know now.

Mutual risk instead of mutual feelings will be an up-front requirement now. I'm not operating in good faith anymore. I'm operating in truth.